The Mountain Stages

Last Thursday I drove down to Shaftsbury for a weekend of training with Steve and Bogden. Friday afternoon Steve and I packed up the PBJs, water and chocolate milk and hit the road towards the Massachusetts border en route to Mt. Greylock. We were meeting Bogden for a serious ascent up the tallest mountain in the state via the freshly paved access road. This summer I've really been hitting up the rollerski climbs. Mostly just the Bolton access road, really, but that one's a doosy. With the Tour De France climbing in the Alps that weekend, I imagined us gliding up and around the mountain like a perfectly fluid team. In skiing I think we all have moments where reality just escapes us. Sometimes it's because we're pushing so hard that nothing matters, and sometimes it's just our surroundings. Being nordic skiers seems to set us up for a different sort of reality anyway. A reality where Whiteface is seen as an UPHILL ski area, and the sound of "Fischer" invokes images of yellow carbonfiber, not forest animals or weekends on a boat. The reality of Greylock was that it was going to hurt, plain and simple. We hit the road and after an initial steep pitch the road flattened out, eventually even going downhill in sections.



As the scenic lookout pulloffs increased though, so did the grade. Without saying a word or making so much as the slightest gesture, we began to speed up. Our poles crunched and cracked into the pavement with a more defiant "snap!", and our breathing became rhythmic and heavy. Sweat cruised in a rollercoaster ride from my forehead down my nose, jumping to my chin and slopping to the pavement from the strap on my helmet. It was on. Still without speaking we upped the tempo again. We hit a series of full-on switchbacks and suddenly the insidious climb seemed to edge on gravity a little more. C'mon, make it a little heavier it nagged. Cars stopped passing on either side. Or more likely, we just didn't notice them anymore. I hit the top and went into the nordic pain cave position: wide feet, elbows on the poles and head slunk low under the straps. After a while cars began to go by again, and people appeared seemingly out of thin air, staring at me in the typical dumbfounded gaze of tourist-on-rollerskier amusement. I was back in reality.


(Both photos stolen from Ben)

Flatlander

Grand Forks, North Dakota. Its not exactly the sort of place I pictured my self ever spending time in. I'm out here with my advisor, Antun Husinec, to do some geology research. We're working in a rock core library at the University of North Dakota, basically analyzing rock core from oil explorations foot by foot, eight hours a day, six days a week. Not exactly my dream job either but on the plus side, its inside and not physically demanding, making training much easier and more effective. Previously I had been a farm hand during the summer, picking strawberries in the morning and doing about every other farm job known to man in the afternoon and was often too exhausted and dehydrated to accomplish anything when I got home.
Training has been good so far this summer. Before heading west, I spent two and a half weeks in Caribou training with MWSC again. There was a really solid group there for the summer which made everything pretty fun and productive. We did some physical testing the first week and while I didn't get a chance to do any treadmill tests, I feel I put in a solid effort in the track tests with a 10:14 in the 3000 (just shy of my PR from freshman year at SLU) and a 59.5 in the 400 Given the fact that I am not a sprinter, I was pretty happy with that. I also made some improvements in strength testing, but still need to work on my legs a lot. Despite all the rain, I made it up to Kamouraska-St.Andre, Quebec with Will Sweetser and Sarah Dominick for a day of sport climbing. The climbing was great, but upon our return we heard the very sad news about Willie Neal, which kind of put a damper on things.
Now I'm here in North Dakota, riding my bike on flat, straight roads and swimming laps in the pool. I was going to do a bunch of track workouts, but the track is securely locked inside the football stadium here. Between training and work, time is a bit of a blur, so hopefully I'll be driving back east before I know it. We're going to the Bad Lands Wednesday, which should be cool, and I may head over to Minnesota the week after, we'll see what happens though.
Train smart, be safe, and most importantly keep it all fun!